


Six families, Six lives

by Impala_Cherry_Trickster



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Farm/Ranch, Arsehole John Winchester, Awesome Bobby Singer, Azazel's Sam's adopted father, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Mechanic Dean Winchester, Pirates, Protective Dean Winchester, Protective Michael, Smut, Tea, castiel is a nerd, dun dun dun
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-13
Updated: 2019-06-18
Packaged: 2020-05-02 15:09:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19201420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Impala_Cherry_Trickster/pseuds/Impala_Cherry_Trickster
Summary: Six children taken from their parents, split up and put in new families. When they come of age, the two families try and find their siblings. Dean is desperate to find Sammy, and Michael wants to reunite his family, but not without issues.





	1. A Background

When the Realm of Kansas was taken over, the soldiers split up the families that lived there. It started with every family, the men that were able were conscripted, the women put into jobs needed for the war that the Kingdom was fighting across seas. Suitable families, loyal to the King, were found for the children of Kansas. Each child was recorded, stamped (something the families had to keep doing, some choosing to make it a tattoo so they didn’t have to keep printing it) and then given to a new home.

The law was simple, until the twentieth birthday of the child, they could not be free from the family they were placed with, unless extenuating circumstances came up. One, the original family completed their duty to the Kingdom of America, allowing them to reclaim their children, or Two, the elder siblings reached the age of twenty, and filed to have the younger put into their custody. That was allowed, because children raised in the families for five years or more were considered loyal.

The children were given a new surname, but were allowed to reclaim the old surname if they wanted to upon twentieth birthday. Now, the paperwork allowed them to go back to the people they used to be. The Realm was taken over eight years ago, when six children, from two different families, were taken from their fathers. Chuck Novak, taken to work in engineering for the Army, left behind four boys, Michael, Lucifer, Gabriel and Castiel. The eldest, at the time was twelve. The youngest just turned seven. Then there was John Winchester, signed up for the front line, becoming an Officer within just two years. He lost his two boys, Dean, aged eleven, and Sam, aged seven.

These six children are the ones this story follows, the six families they were taken into, and the lives they lived since the Realm was taken.


	2. Hello, Lucifer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the Hapburn household, population: Lucifer, his new Mom, and some dead Hamsters

Lucifer.

The nineteen-year-old boy walked out of the yard, waving goodbye to his friends. It was getting close to dusk, and his Mother would not be best pleased if he was late home. Lucifer walked towards his home, a detached house in the middle of the city, where he lived with his mother, a high-end lawyer who worked with the big politicians in the city. It was a good life, Lucifer could admit that, but it hadn’t always been easy.

He was eleven when he was split from his big brother Mike, and his two baby brothers. He still remembered the shock on Gabriel’s face, how Castiel was crying, clinging to the second youngest. Lucifer, trying to mimic his big brother, acted strong. He wished he hadn’t, wished he had accepted the hug that Michael offered before they were dragged away from each other.

Eloise Hapburn was a nice woman. She had accepted that Lucifer would be terrified, and had done everything she could to change that situation. Lucifer grew up in a townhouse, three bedrooms, a nice spacious lawn. He was sent to one of the best schools, and his adoptive mother always pushed him to do things that he didn’t think he could. To begin with, it was ordinary things, like making friends, going out to the milkshake bar, things like that. Then, as Lucifer grew into his name, she was supportive of other things.

Judo and Martial Arts came first, then boxing, and eventually, Lucifer joined the Gym as a regular member. He fought every other week, earning up to $300 a fight, if he won. Which he almost always did. Eloise had supported him through this, and then onwards as he pursued a career in business. At nineteen, he worked for a company called Electron Industries, who were trying to provide weaponry for the war. He didn’t pay much attention to the actual making, he was up in management.

His mother was probably the reason why he had such a good job at such a young age. As a lawyer, she had influence over people, and had managed to get him into some advanced career-altering life lessons. When he reached twenty, and hopefully reunited with his younger brothers if Michael had not already got them, he hoped that he would be able to set up his own business. He had ideas already, and his mother was happy to invest, as were others that he knew.

Walking into the house, Eloise called to him from the kitchen. He walked in, found her cooking something that was no doubt delicious, a smile on her face. She was a usually cheerful woman anyway, but Lucifer could tell that there was something different about this smile. He took his seat after taking off his shoes and jacket, looking across and waiting for her to break the news.

‘I got a letter today.’ Was the start of the sentence, the 5ft4 woman turning to smile at him. Lucifer realised what it could be, his face breaking into a grin, hoping that what she was about to say was the words he had waited for since the Realm had been taken over.

‘Paperwork had been taken out ready for claiming. I sneaked a peek, pulled a few strings, found a newly claimed Michael Novak with custody papers.’ Eloise had always known he intended to go back to his brothers. She had always been supportive, trying to find them even though they had been split up. So, hearing that Michael was starting to take out Custody was amazing, even if he had been twenty for six months now.

‘You should know, he’s been doing this for a while. It takes a long time, and about a six month wait after applying for one. I think, if my sources are correct, he’s starting with you.’ Lucifer couldn’t quite believe it. His brother, starting with him? Surely he would go for Castiel, or even Gabriel, but not him? Lucifer couldn’t help the smile that broke, and Eloise was hugging him, and he would never admit that tears were forming. His mother bent down, hands cupping his cheeks, a soft smile on her face.

‘I’ll help you find Michael, Luci. You’ll be back with your brothers in no time.’ He thanked her, pressed his forehead to hers as her thumbs traced the tears away from his face. Michael was coming for them, he hadn’t forgot, and he had claimed his previous surname. Lucifer wasn’t sure that he would do that, he was happy being Lucifer Hapburn, but he would still go back to his brothers. Always.

He took the stairs two at a time, stripping off his clothing and heading to the shower. He was still in shock, the knowledge that he would get to see his brothers again making him smile. He didn’t know any other children from Kansas, the realm hadn’t had many children of correct age, and they were spread across the whole of the Kingdom. Finally, he would get to see his brother, and find out the kind of life they lived.

His hand traced the mark on his hip, the tattoo he’d got when he was fifteen, that kept the symbol on his hip. It was his identification, the item that would mean he could access his records, and eventually would be allowed to find his brothers. If Michael found him, they would check the symbol, then Michael would get custody. He could live with his brother again.

Not for the first time, Lucifer wondered what the others lives’ had been like. Lucifer had grown up in a privileged household with only one parent. He had gone to a grammar school, been taught amongst the children of politicians and lawyers and businessmen. He had shaped his life so he could join the middle-class, working hard to fit into the circles that they had. He had got used to the city life, had enjoyed his life here. He had been out on dates with both women and men, Eloise had had no preference to his choosing, and he had been successful enough in his fighting to have a bank account with money in it.

He had grown up with a pet, a hamster, that Eloise had told him would teach Lucifer the fundamental basics of looking after someone else. It had taken four hamsters for Lucifer to be able to keep one successfully, naming him Amos, and keeping him until he died of old age. He wondered if his siblings had any pets, if they had grown up with the same luxury. He supposed it did not really matter, he would help provide for them if they hadn’t.


	3. Preach

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel!! :)

 Gabriel.

‘YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO STAY ON THE HORSE!’ His mother shouted, laughing happily as Gabriel detached his foot from the stirrup that was dragging him on his back around the ring. Darcy cantered away, Gabriel standing and shaking down the dust that had attached itself to his leathers. Walking across to his mother, who was standing at the edge of the ring, he gave a mock-bow.

‘Boy, I hadn’t learnt that, Ma.’ She clipped his ear playfully, shaking her head as they watched Darcy work herself down to a light trot. He adjusted his jacket, figuring he needed to try again if they were going to have any luck at the races this weekend. His mother, Hannah, ruffled his hair fondly, stealing his hat to do so.

‘Enough of the lip, y’little carrot. Hop up n’ try her again.’ Gabriel smiled slightly, the accent had long since caught up with him, and he got used to the many nicknames she gave him. He wasn’t the only child of Hannah, but the other two were both girls, twins, and stayed inside the Ranch House. They had no interest in the eighteen horses on the land, that was left to Gabriel and the stable boy, Joey, to deal with.

Gabriel mounted the horse, Darcy significantly less angry than she had been the first time. The ride was pleasant, working her up to a steady canter around the ring. She was one that was to be sold this weekend, in exchange for a young colt. When he nodded to his ma’, the ring door opened, and Gabriel decided to test out the young mare.

Flying across the open ranch-land, the two went galloping across to the far end of the estate, the wooded border, before racing back again. Darcy was getting good, he thought, and if he had a couple more weeks, she’d have made a fine racing horse. But, as luck had it, they didn’t need another mare. They needed a new Stallion, a good one, which was why Darcy needed to be perfect for this weekend.

By the time he reached the stables, Joey had already cleared off, leaving Gabriel to untack and wash the horse down. At seventeen and a half, Gabriel was the youngest jockey that would be riding this weekend, but it didn’t bother him much. Darcy stood patiently as she was washed, Gabriel paying attention to untangling the mane and tail. When he was done, he led the horse out to the sun-paddock, leaving her to dry and calm down from the ride.

Sugar-cubes safely hidden away from the horse who kept trying to eat his pockets, he walked towards the house, in desperate need of a shower. He also needed to clean the tack for the weekend, but it was Wednesday today, which meant Church in the afternoon. He reached the farmhouse, kicked the door open with his boot, heard his mother call him a Grump, whatever one of those was, and headed to his room.

His sisters were both asleep, unsurprisingly considering how late they had stayed up last night. Gabriel made it to the shower, stripping of the dusty leather and stepping under the spray. It would only be warm for about three minutes, any more and there would be no hot water for his Pa’ either, and that wouldn’t be good. He scrubbed his hair, cleaned his body, paying special attention to the tattoo on his ankle. He’d had it done on his fourteenth birthday, after he’d drunk a bottle of beer to try and stem the pain.

Before that, temporary tattoos had been the only way to keep the mark on. Gabriel stepped out, towel-dried himself, then walked to his room. He was lucky to have an ensuite, if you could call the cupboard with a hose that, because it allowed him to leave his mucky clothes on the floor. They would need washed, but he didn’t have time before church.

Putting on his smart clothing, his ironed trousers and shirt, then his jacket, putting the tie on like he was supposed to, he looked to the cracked mirror in the corner of his room. It amazed him how quickly he went from the stable-boy to an actually presentable image. Doing up the brown-leather shoes, he grabbed his hat, tucked it under his arm and left.

His sisters, Emma and Lily, had managed to get out of bed. They both stumbled out into the corridor, the only way he could tell them apart was by their dress choices, even if they both looked tired.

‘Come here, Em.’ She turned, and Gabriel laced up the back of the dress quicker than she ever could, tightening it enough to hide the swell of her belly. At nineteen, Emma was by no means old enough to have a baby, let alone with the Stable Boy. She hadn’t told their Mother or Pa’, probably terrified of their reaction. It was a secret kept between the three of them, plus Joey, who was trying to look for a more high-paying job to try and support her.

Gabriel finished tying the dress, before looking to her stomach to check that the three-month-along baby couldn’t be seen. Once happy that their mother wouldn’t kill them all, he wrapped the shawl around her neck, then turned to do the same to Lily. The younger (by three minutes) twin allowed him to do the dress up, before both the girls and Gabriel headed downstairs. Hannah was waiting by the door, dressed in a white dress with pink flowers embroided. Gabriel kissed his mother’s cheek, the woman was quite short, useful because he was stuck at midget height.

When their Pa’ walked in, he looked pleased at the sight of the four of them. Wrapping an arm around Hannah’s waist, pressing a kiss to her cheek, the Grayborn family headed to church. Gabriel sung along to the hymns, pretended he believed in the God they sung and prayed to, while thinking about his Dad, Chuck, who had once told him he didn’t believe in God because no man could be that cruel to a world. The thought led him to thinking about his brothers, most notably his baby brother Castiel. When he did, the pain of losing them came back as well, and he shuffled slightly closer to Emma.

He knew Michael had turned twenty. He knew, logically, that his brother would probably come for him. And he knew that his family would allow it, that they had always been adamant that he could go back to his family if he wanted to, but Gabriel didn’t know if Michael would pick him up. Lucifer, sure. Castiel, the baby of the four, definitely. But him? He was the annoying nine-year-old who hadn’t spoken when they’d been split apart. Sometimes, in the very worst of his nightmares, Gabriel would see his family reunited, completely forgetting about him.

Emma found his hand, squeezing softly like she knew what he had been thinking. She probably did, Emma was basically telepathic when it came to reading his emotions. He smiled back to his sister, felt the same guilty stab in his gut when he looked to her belly, then turned and continued to listen to the preacher.


	4. Six Bedrooms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael's life

 Michael.

Michael Novak slumped down against the table, repeatedly banging his head against the table until his housemate slipped a pillow between his forehead and the mahogany table. The Novak sighed, realising that this paperwork had the very intention of preventing siblings getting reunited, then picked the pen up yet again.

‘I just want to get one of them. Once I get one, the others will follow.’ Michael stated aloud, mostly to comfort himself. A snort came from the other, slightly younger man, who was making a cup of coffee.

‘You’re going to go through this in two weeks, so be quiet.’ Michael snapped, but he didn’t really mean it. He was just annoyed, all this time trying to gain the information on Lucifer so he could claim custody, just to be told that he had to fill out all the paperwork and hand it to the City Council before they would give him Lucifer’s records. He had thought that, by starting with the eldest, they would have enough brainpower to get the other two quicker.

It had always been Michael’s job to reunite the family. He still remembered the day the soldiers came, taking his Dad away from him. He remembered his father telling him it was his job to look after his baby brothers. When the soldiers had taken them away, he had hugged the youngest two, offering his arms out to Lucifer. His brother had declined, and Michael could see the hurt on his face, and Michael had never lost the guilt that followed.

But, despite that, Michael had a good life. He had been adopted by the Ray family, a man called Thomas, a politician, taking him in. He had a new mother, but was the only child of the family, which was nice. His father had helped him get a good education, had taken him to Council meetings to listen in, and Michael had got a job in directing a company. He had been able to buy a house, a big house, with land, for his family, and his housemate, and his housemate’s brother.

Michael had started the paperwork, his father telling him that he was pulling every string he could to get this moved along. When restless, the eldest Novak would look to the tattoo on his shoulder blade, the same place that his housemate had his, and would remember that he was part of the system too. He had gotten out, and, even if the worst came to the worst, Lucifer would be able to claim his records in nine months-time. He would be able to find Michael, Michael would be able to find him, and they could both find their baby brothers.

The plan had many problems with it, but Michael was determined. Filling out yet another sheet of information, his money records going down to show that he could successfully support three more children, but just one would be nice to begin with. His eyes were drawn to the plate of lasagne that Dean had cooked for him, and he eventually gave in, tucking in to the food.

Dean sat down opposite, the two of them were both pretty close, even though they had different backgrounds. Becoming friends, bonding over the loss of a younger sibling, or in Michael’s case, three younger siblings, they had become close friends. When that had progressed to housemates, Michael had been happy. Dean’s family were more than happy for him to live with Michael, Dean was paying his way, so Michael didn’t have to worry.

In fact, Dean had more money than Michael did. The two had bought the house together, a six-bedroomed property that could hold all of them. That thought inspired the eldest to continue the paperwork, writing everything he needed to. Wherever Lucifer was, he would find him, then bring him to this household. Despite wanting them back so badly, he did hope that his brothers had lived with good families, like the one he had been adopted into.

He’d had a dog. Michael had never wanted a pet, but Barny the dog came with the family, and he had got used to the furred canine. His father had been away a lot, and although Michael never called him Dad aloud, he got used to the idea of his, being a father. It didn’t mean he had forgotten his real Dad, quite the contrary, Michael was determined to find Chuck Novak once he had got all his siblings back.

When, on his twentieth birthday, he had accepted his old surname, his Dad had come and clapped him on the back warmly.

‘Michael, we’ll always be there for you, but I’m proud that you’re loyal to your brothers. You’ve made your mother and I very glad to call you our son.’ It had been something that had stuck with the eldest, and he’d even shared the words with Dean, who had smiled at him and called him a sap. Michael had to agree, listening to his Dad say those words had made him smile brighter than he ever had. He hoped his brothers had the same sort of life as he had, a family to take care of him, maybe even some siblings.

He didn’t want to drag them away if they didn’t want to be with him. But it wouldn’t stop him from finding each one and giving them the option. Dean left the room, saying something about a date, while Michael looked back to the stack of paperwork. Sending a silent prayer, hoping that wherever he was, Lucifer knew he was coming, he picked up the pen. He would get this done, hand it in by the end of the week, then would have his brother back by his side. It was what his Dad would have wanted, what he wanted. His family back by his side.

It progressed well into the night, Michael continuing to fill the paperwork out. By the time Dean got home, one too many drinks in his stomach and a dark hickey sucked into his neck, Michael could barely see the words on the pages in front of him. His drunk friend came across, scooped Michael out of the chair, lifting one of his arms around his shoulders.

‘You need sleep, Mike. We’ll do this in the morning, I promise.’ He was half-carried to his room, dumped on the bed, and his eyes shut instantly. Hands undid his shoes and belt, tugged off the cotton sweatpants, then wrapped him up under the blanket. Sleep came easily to the eldest Novak, who dreamed of a family reunited.


	5. Worry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello Dean!

Dean.

Dean was concerned for Michael. There was only so much he could do to help, and he obviously wanted to. After all, when he turned twenty in two weeks, it would be him having to fill this paperwork out to try and get Sammy back. The house that the two of them, him and Michael, had bought was big enough for their siblings. Dean worked as a Mechanic, owning his own shop just in the town they were just ten minutes away from.

Dean, like Michael, had been lucky with his family. He had been adopted by a man called Bobby Singer, a mechanic who instantly took a liking to him. Dean, at twelve years of age with an ingrained message to protect his baby brother, found comfort in the old man. Bobby had encouraged him to talk about Sam, had put out as many posts to his colleagues and friends as he could asking if anyone knew a Sam. Bobby had a wife, Ellen Harvelle, who had a daughter from a previous marriage. Joanne Beth was nice, known as Jo, but they never really acted like siblings.

Bobby had always encouraged him to be bold, to be outgoing. Dean had worked with cars since he joined the Singer/Harvelle Household, adopting the surname Singer, although Bobby still called him a Winchester. He got used to living with the family, helped pay his way by working down at the corner store and in the Garage, while going to school at the same time. He flunked education, opting to branch into the Mechanic’s line, taking over from Bobby when he retired. Moving in with Michael had been a big step, one that his family had fully supported, even if he had to go back for lunch every other Sunday.

His date last night had been, as expected, not very successful. Dean had no issues picking up women, he could do that any time he went out, but he was no longer just looking for a casual fling. He actually thought, now that he had a house, it wouldn’t harm him to have a girlfriend. But Carly, or Candy, had been a blonde with very few brain cells. He tried to get along with her, but the girl had just focused on his lips as he tried to engage in conversation, and he had quickly realised this wasn’t really going to work out.

Now he was working through paperwork, learning what he would need to do to find Sammy when he turned twenty. It looked complicated, but he didn’t mind, Sammy would be his soon enough. He missed his tiny baby brother, although part of him knew that Sam must have grown into those coltish limbs by now. The thought did make him shudder, wondering exactly what his brother looked like now.

He stood up, ruffled Michael’s hair in a way that made the older laugh, batting his hand away, and Dean grabbed the keys to the Impala on the drive. His dad used to have one, and Dean had been determined to find one and restore it. He’d saved up, bought the car and the parts, and now his beautiful 67’ was sitting on the driveway looked like a dream.

‘I’m off to work, don’t screw your eyes up.’ He stated, and his housemate flipped him off. That made him smile slightly, Michael always knew how to cheer him up, as well as anyone else that met him. The son of the Politician did do well at making friends, and Dean had no doubt that the paperwork would be passed through.

Work was boring, people coming in with cars that weren’t anything special. Bobby came around to the shop to see him, and Dean left his two hired workers, Garth and Benny, to continue running the place while he had lunch with his adoptive father.

‘Getting close to your twentieth, boy.’ Bobby stated, and Dean grinned around the beer bottle. That certainly was something he was looking forward to, and everyone in the household knew it. The thought of being able to see Sam after these eight years was one that kept a smile on his face. He wasn’t sure that John would ever come back, something told Dean that the military life would suit his father well, but he didn’t need his Dad. He had Bobby, who had offered to treat Sam like he was his own when he came back.

‘I just can’t wait to meet him, Bobby. D’you think his family is nice?’ Bobby went on to assure him that he was sure they were, and part of Dean knew that Bobby was saying that because of the life they lived before the Realm was taken over. John Winchester, although he loved the two of them, had been a harsh man. Motels, alcohol and hustling pool were the main ways they lived, and John had very little time for Sammy when he got upset.

Dean often dreamed about what his little brother’s life might be like. He knew that Sam wanted a dog, always had done, so that would be nice. He didn’t do well on his own, so he hoped their were other children his age to keep him company. A mom would be nice, Dean had a few memories of theirs, but Sammy never knew her. In the end, Dean just hoped that whatever family had adopted Sam, that they would be alright with him coming back into his little brother’s life.

The rest of work was boring, Benny and Garth keeping a smile on his face with jokes about how they wouldn’t see Dean once his brother came back. Jokes about what his baby brother might look like, how he might have been adopted by a high-end family that wouldn’t approve of Dean being a mechanic. Truthfully, Dean didn’t worry too much about the family that Sam was with now, it would still be his decision, and he knew Sam would come back to him. The Winchesters were always better close together.

Later that evening, he drove Michael to the City Council offices, dropping off the paperwork for the adoption of Lucifer Novak, or whatever his new surname was. It wouldn’t be too long until they decided whether a meeting was appropriate, and usually they couldn’t deny them. Dean, knowing Michael’s adoptive family, knew there would be very little issue with the paperwork going through, even if it had taken this long to get to this stage. Michael looked pleased, and the two celebrated with beer and a crappy action movie, waiting for the large empty house to fill up.


	6. Bees

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello, Sweet Castiel <3

Castiel.

The youngest Novak, now Woods, was outside in the bright sun. It was hot, really hot, despite the fact that it was January. That was what you got for living at the most southern point in the Kingdom, he thought with a slight smile. Despite the sun beating down, Castiel was enjoying the day, lounging around in shorts and a strapped vest. Usually, he would wear proper clothing, even outside in the Plantation grounds. But today it was too hot, and Castiel Woods cared little for protocol.

He lived with a rich family who had moved south to set up a tea plantation, one of the best. It stretched for miles, miles he usually took by the horse and cart. The plantation was worked by servants, people taken from Realms that were absorbed into America. He wasn’t technically allowed to speak to them, although it didn’t stop him from talking to them.

He lived with just his father, Alexander Woods, and his many Mistresses that usually walked around the plantation in dresses down to their ankles with a corset so tight he was surprised that they could breathe. Castiel, rather than running after his father, took a more practical approach. He worked out on the land, worked on managing the business, then took courses in school and was slowly gaining qualifications.

He was only fifteen, but he had every hope that one day he would get to leave the plantation. It wasn’t that he didn’t love his father, he had done a lot for Castiel even though he didn’t have to, but he wanted something else. He had no desire to exploit people just to make a living, but it did make a lot of money. They weren’t alike, Alexander and Castiel. The prior-Novak was interested in books and literature, worked at the local library in the town. He had a love of wildlife, loved the bee hives on the edge of the Plantation, would spend hours with the Keeper tending to them.

But, he didn’t have many opportunities to be that person. He ended up going to the fancy dinners, dancing around in the ballroom in the Plantation House, watching his father fall “in love” with half the female population. Castiel wasn’t exactly surprised, but it meant he spent a lot of time outside. He knew his eldest brother, Michael, had turned twenty by now. Castiel could remember him the least of the three elder siblings, just his voice and occasional hugs. Lucifer, his sharp wit and growing anger towards their father.

Then there was Gabriel. Gabriel… he remembered him the best. Remembered hands holding him, soothing words uttered into his ears, lips pressed to his forehead. He remembered soft singing, beautiful whiskey-eyes that would keep him happy. He hoped that Michael would get him out, and he would find Gabriel again. He wanted a brother, not just servants from the yard that were terrified of him. They didn’t want to risk offending him, the only one that would actually stay with him was Max, who would go out on the back of the Cart with him across the grounds.

He realised he should probably be getting back, it was time for dinner soon, and he didn’t want to upset Marie, the maid that cleaned and cooked. And the only woman that hadn’t slept with his Dad, which was a bonus. Returning to the large house, he gave a nod to the doorman, who bowed his head. The inside was actually relatively modern, despite the old-fashioned outside of the building. As he walked up the stairs, he passed a woman that he was pretty sure was the wife of the Mayor. She gave him a sweet smile, one he completely ignored, because she wouldn’t be in the house again.

The top floor was entirely his. In it, a bedroom, full bathroom, library and reception room. It was slightly ridiculous, but Castiel had got used to it. He walked to the bathroom, stripping off his clothing and running a cool bath. He washed quickly, put on proper dinner clothing, then re-stamped the temporary tattoo onto his thigh. He kept it non-permanent, just because he didn’t really like the reminder that he didn’t belong in this family.

Walking downstairs, he almost ran into Moog and Doog, the oddly named King Charles Spaniels that his father owned. He stepped over them, before heading to the dining room. Marie smiled sweetly as he walked in, coming across to brush his black hair out of his face, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

‘Hello, Angel. How was your day?’ She spoke it in her home language, from across the Oceans, and Castiel was glad. They spoke in it often, he had a love for the Oceanic languages, and Marie was more than happy to oblige. It also meant his father couldn’t understand, which was nice.

‘Boring, and hot. Max wasn’t here, and the Keeper didn’t want to disturb the bees.’ He explained, helping Marie to set the table. She was grateful for the help, and wasn’t one to scold him for his choice of friends.

‘No, but it will be getting colder by the end of the week. How are you feeling about the dance at the end of the week?’ Castiel sighed, honestly he hated the dances more than anything else. Marie chuckled softly, went to ruffle his hair, before Alexander walked in and she took a step back. With him around, she couldn’t act like his doting mother, having to act like the maid she was supposed to be.

‘Good evening, Castiel. The day was pleasant, was it not?’ Castiel, even after all this time, still thought the way he spoke was utterly useless. Why bother putting so many words into a sentence?

‘It was. How was Lady Eleanor?’ He asked, and the momentary guilt on his father’s face was enough to confirm it was indeed Eleanor, the wife of the Mayor. It didn’t matter, he could afford to do things like that without getting in trouble for them. The Plantation was vital to the town, to the entire Kingdom, and so Alexander could usually get away with flirting and sleeping with who he wanted.

‘Well. Have you heard anything from your brother Michael?’ It was meant as a genuine question, but Castiel still felt slightly worried that he wasn’t going to come and get him. It hadn’t been too long since Michael had turned eighteen, and he had heard that the paperwork was very difficult to handle. It gave him enough patience to wait, so he could turn and smile softly at his father.

‘Not yet, but I am sure he will soon.’ His father smiled slightly, a sort of sad smile.

‘You will visit, won’t you Castiel?’ Castiel was surprised by the worry in his voice, and he looked up to his father with a shocked look.

‘Of course I will, father.’ Just because they did not see eye to eye on matters did not mean that Castiel didn’t love him. The man had held him while he cried as a child, sung to him like Gabriel used to, had allowed Marie to make him hot milk and an apple before bed. Alexander smiled, and Castiel matched it. Even when his brothers came, he would not forget this life.


	7. Duck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam's story. I won't be updating for the next two days, I've got a hospital trip, but I'll get back as soon as I can.

Sam.

‘DUCK!’ Sam ducked, gripped harder onto the rope that he was hanging onto, then almost toppled as sea water hit him in the face. In the next instant, the loose rope that he had been ducking from flew across his head, hitting eight of the crew and knocking them to the deck. Sam climbed, feet slipping on the sea-soaked ropes, before he gripped the reel. Others got the idea, running for the reel and grabbing it. Sam began to haul it, ignoring the boat beginning to tip. Shouts as the men slid around on the salty floor, the rope that had been broken hauled in.

The masts were being stowed, which was good, while the Captain stood behind the wheel. He was shouting orders, which was nice, but most people were still trying not to fall off the ship. Sam laughed slightly as he was flung to the side, his best friend Crowley grinning madly as the ship crashed through another wave. The two fell to the reel in the centre, fingers gripping the rope as they clung on for their lives.

‘MAN OVERBOARD!’ Someone screamed, and Sam grabbed the rope. Thunder rumbled, and Sam went skidding to the side. It was dark and stormy, he couldn’t see the man that had gone, although people were looking down into the murky depths. Sam wrapped the rope around his waist, securing it, then made sure there were four men holding the reel in place.

‘GOING DOWN’ Sam shouted, men watching on as he dived. The water was pretty warm, considering they were in the Ocean territory, and Sam gasped in air before he plunged beneath the surface. Hands outstretched, searching for anything he could grab. The rope made sure he couldn’t get sucked under the ship, which would basically result in him drowning. He searched, eyes burning as he searched, the froth making it hard to see.

He had done this only twice before, and both were training times. The other man that was supposed to be able to do this was unconscious after one of the masts swung and hit him. So, Sam dived again, lungs burning as his fingers hit something. He wrapped his arms around it, feeling limbs that were drooping against him. That wasn’t good, he wasn’t fighting, but Sam gave three quick tugs and felt the rope begin to pull.

Hauling the man over his shoulder, he placed bare feet against the side of the old wooden ship, beginning to climb. It was hard, the man over his shoulder weighed a lot more than Sam trained with, but in these conditions, adrenaline fuelled him to dump them both back onto the deck. Hands grabbed him, hauling him safely away below deck into the Captain’s Quarters.

His father didn’t look impressed. Azazel, the Captain of the Elysian, sat down on his chair. Sam grabbed a towel, ran it through his long hair. He probably needed to shave, he thought, feeling stubble growing along his chin. He was only fifteen, but growing up on a ship apparently meant that he grew up slightly faster. Most of the crew had long hair, or were bald, usually beards followed. That was due to the poor cleaning facilities and the trust that came with allowing other people to take a knife to your neck to shave.

Azazel sighed, then offered Sam a glass of what was probably rum. Sam accepted, taking a seat opposite his father.

‘That was dangerous.’ Azazel casually remarked, and Sam agreed, draining the drink. He loved his dad, just as he knew that Azazel loved him, although most of the Crew were terrified of the man. Azazel was employed directly by the King of America, and the Elysian was tasked with rampaging through the Oceanic countries. Basically, pirates. That was his job, to be a pirate. And he loved it, loved every minute of it. The best bits were the languages, the local people that he got to meet, and he adored it. He loved being on the ship, he made lifelong friends, even if he missed his prior life.

Dean. That was the one thing that always made his stomach twist painfully. He wanted to see him, wanted to be back by his side. He would give up this life of freedom just to be by Dean’s side, but he didn’t think that Dean would want him anymore. He didn’t really look like he used to, and he was worried that Dean would be slightly off-putted by him.

‘It’s my job.’ Sam said, thinking to his appearance. His hair reached his shoulders, a mop of hair that was usually sea-slicked. Stubble lining his jawline. Clothes that clung to his growing form, 6ft2 already. Muscles that made his shirt bulge awkwardly. He had grown into his coltish limbs, filled them out, although the crew still laughed at him for his tiny waist. Then there were the other issues. He had the brand on his hip that was his stamp, then a brand on his shoulder to symbolise his loyalty to the Elysian. He had a scar from ear to collarbone that was due to a nasty cut mast.

‘He’s twenty in two weeks.’ Azazel stated as Sam watched him stand, walking to the cream. They had done this before, and Sam wrapped the towel around his shoulders. The shaving cream was dabbed on as Sam sat still.

‘I’ve put men out to collect any paperwork that comes through.’ Sam hummed in acceptance, happy that his father would allow him to go back to Dean. The knife started to slip down his cheek, and he was glad that the ship was going across calmer waters.

‘Thank you.’ He uttered, and Azazel tilted his head to run the razorblade down the side.

‘I cannot promise it will be quick, Samuel. It may take time.’ Sam had all the time in the world. He would continue to live on the sea until Dean wanted him, and if he did not… Well. It wouldn’t be the first time. Sam and his father’s ship had run into the American Marines, most notably an Officer Winchester. Sam had recognised his father, and his father had recognised him, before turning away. Sam had never felt more rejected, but he backed away anyway, returning to his new life.

‘I have time. The sea is my home till then.’ He assured, and his father ran the blade under his neck, silencing him. He turned his head to father once he had finished, but the man would not look at him. A hand rested lightly on his shoulder, before Azazel finally turned, taking the towel and wiping Sam’s cheeks down.

‘The sea will always be your home, Sam. She accepts you.’ Sam thought about the freedom he had felt diving under the waves, then thought to the steady Emerald eyes that he remembered of his brother.


End file.
